I'm Not My Father's Son
by Melissa R. Mendelson
Summary: It's thirty years later after the incident at Winslow, Arizona and the kidnapping of Jenny Hayden, and Scott was still being hunted. But as the government closed in and the stakes rose higher and higher, Scott realized that he had to return to where it all began.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

 _If you asked someone about 1977, you would get a lot of answers. The first Apple II Computer went on sale. Jimmy Carter became president. Elvis Presley died at age 42 from a heart attack. New York City suffered a major blackout for twenty-five hours. Star Wars. The Son of Sam, who was arrested on August 10, 1977, eleven days after his last murder. Did all this happen in 1977? Yes, and these would be the answers given. But nobody would mention Winslow, Arizona or what happened there in 1977, and if they knew about it, then they would disappear._

 _If you looked really hard, you would find something, a news story about the kidnapping of Jenny Hayden. She was abducted from her home in the middle of the night and forced into her car, taking off with her abductor. She tried to escape, but whatever had happened with that seems to be erased now. She was spotted at a rest stop, where a brawl broke out over a deer and a car chase led to a collision with a tourist bus. After that, the story gets sketchy. A police officer said that she was shot during another car chase with the police. There was an explosion, and her body was carried out of the debris by her abductor. She was then spotted at another rest stop, where she caught a ride heading west. She was seen later in Las Vegas, then again at another rest stop. After that, nobody had seen her. She was presumed dead, and her home was left abandoned. Was Jenny Hayden abducted? Yes, but what nobody would mention was that it was the government that took her. They kept her locked up, isolated, running tests on her, and somehow later, she managed to escape. But she knew that she could not go home. She could never go home again, and she was okay with that. And they would be looking for her, and by then, they would know about me. For twenty-five years, she kept me safe, but it's five years later without her. Am I really safe? What will happen to me when the day comes, where they find me?_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

It was nine-thirty a.m. on a Thursday morning. The rain was falling heavier outside. It pounded against the office window. It stole the sunlight away, casting dark shadows across a wooden desk and desktop computer. The lights overhead were already dim, and the small, black numbers blurred against the white page. The computer screen shined an eerie green across pale skin as brown eyes scanned more numbers before typing them in. It was just another day, another long day, and somewhere in the distance, thunder began to rumble.

"Marc? Marc?"

Marc looked up from the computer screen, still holding the white pages in his hands. His gaze fell on the thick, manila folder that his boss held. He tried not to frown, knowing what that was, but Jones was still out on sick leave. Today was his day, and he had forgotten about that. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe an excuse. Yes, he would try to weasel out of it, but his boss was already shaking his head.

"It's your turn, Marc. Stop doing the data entry for now, and make the calls."

"Can't someone else do it," Marc asked.

"It's got to be done, and Tina's done it twice this week already. Do it today. I'll do it tomorrow," and he noticed that Marc raised an eyebrow at that. "Yes, I can make the calls tomorrow, but you're doing today." He held out the thick, manila folder to Marc, who reluctantly took it from him. "Tomorrow, the office staff and I are going out for drinks, if you would like to join us?"

"I don't drink," Marc replied.

"You could still join us, Marc. You've been here for almost a year now. You should come out with us."

"Can I think about it?"

"Yeah. Think about it, and start making those calls at ten. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Bob," and Marc watched him leave the office.

The office was small. The desk was pushed up against the wall with the computer on top of it. There was a bulletin board nailed to the wall next to him with random memos and emails. The window behind him continued to darken, and his door creaked a little from a draft coming off the window. None of that bothered him except for the task that he was given, and a knot now formed in his stomach. At least, there were only eight calls that needed to be made.

"Good morning. This is Marc calling from Forrester Nursing Care. I am calling about the outstanding bill for your father… Yes. Yes, I understand that he recently passed, but our services still have not yet been paid… I understand that, but the bill is months overdue… I understand that. You really don't have to yell at me. I completely understand, and…"

Marc stared at the black phone in his hand. He could still hear her screaming from the other end. He waited until she was finally done yelling. Two things would then happen. She would hang up, or she would scream at him some more. Then, he heard a slam, and he knew that the conversation was over. At least, for now. One call down. Seven more to go.

Twelve-thirty. Lunch time. Marc opened the bottom desk drawer and pulled out a paper brown bag. Inside was a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. He leaned against the wall and began to eat his lunch. He glanced outside his office and noticed Tina sitting at her desk and filing her nails. She was a young, Black woman, and he found her attractive. But when she realized that he was staring at her, he looked away.

The rest of the afternoon dragged by, but there was a lot of data entry, debt that continued to grow from patients in the nursing home and their families. He tried not to let that bother him. It was just a job, and somebody had to do it. He couldn't believe that it was almost a year now, but it was still quiet. And nobody asked him any questions. The moment that something didn't feel right as his mother would say, it would be time to go, but that wasn't now. And it was time for him to finally go home.

Marc lived in the Village of Chester, and his apartment was barely twenty minutes away from where he worked. His apartment was in the third building on the second floor. The majority of his neighbors didn't bother him. Sometimes, they waved. Sometimes, they said hello. It was really just Barry, who lived across from him and often visited him. Barry was a painter, and right now, he suffered from painter's block or as he called it. And for the most part, he didn't ask Marc too many questions. The moment that he does, Marc would have to move, and again, he wondered if he had stayed here for too long.

Six p.m. Hungry Man Dinner. Marc sat on his couch and flipped through the channels on his television set. For a moment, he watched President Bush at a press conference, but then he quickly changed the station. As usual, nothing was on, so he carried the rest of his dinner over to his desk and opened his laptop. Marc was careful with the social media websites like Facebook and Twitter, but he loved Google. But there was nothing to google today, so instead, he picked up a black cd case and opened it. He placed a dvd into his laptop and then sat back in his desk chair.

"Come on, Scott. Make a wish. It's your tenth birthday. Make a wish," the woman behind the camera said.

"I wish…"

"No, silly. If you tell me your wish, it won't come true."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"It's okay, Scott. Did you make your wish?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Blow out your candles."

A gray orb lifted up from Scott's hand and glowed blue. It gently flew over the large, white cake, and the candles blew out. The gray orb then flew back into Scott's hand, and he closed his fingers over it. "Candles are out," he said.

"Scott, I told you about that. Now, would you like to try to blow out your candles again?"

"I'm sorry, Mom, and yes, I'll blow the candles out."

"Just remember what I said, Scott. Nobody can know about what you can do."

"I know, Mom. I know."

Marc reached into his pocket and pulled out the gray orb. It rested in the palm of his hand. It glowed a faint blue, but then its light disappeared. Ever since his mother died, things have not been the same. If he needed to use this, would he be able to? Just then, there was a knock at his door, and Marc quickly pocketed the gray orb and closed his laptop.

"Barry," he greeted his neighbor. "Come in."

"You okay, Marc?" Barry patted him on the shoulder before walking in. "You look a little green."

"I'm okay. Did you paint today?"

Barry was in his early forties with a long, brown beard. He wasn't fat, but close to it. He was sporting a white, stained top and blue overalls. He smelled of paint, and his hands were multi-colored. Barry looked down at himself and laughed. "I tried to, but it's crap. At least, according to my agent, it's crap, but what does she know? I guess you went to work today."

"How'd you guess," Marc asked as he closed the apartment door.

"The blue dress pants and black dress top. It kind of gives it away. Did you eat? I was thinking about ordering pizza," but then Barry saw the hungry man left at the desk. "I guess you ate. How about a movie tonight? I'll bring one of my dvds over."

"Not tonight, Barry. I'm kind of tired." Marc remained standing by the apartment door. "It's been a long day."

"Okay, but you owe me."

"I know," Marc laughed.

"Okay, so this weekend, we're actually going out to a bar. Right? I need some inspiration. Badly."

"As long as we don't get into a bar fight, Barry."

"No. I won't. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a long day" and Marc opened the apartment door for him. "Does Saturday work?"

"Yes, and I am going to hold you to it." Barry moved toward the apartment door and stepped outside. "Get some rest, Marc. You look tired," and he moved over to his apartment.

"Night, Barry."

"Night, Marc."

Marc stepped back into his apartment. He closed the apartment door. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the gray orb. Again, it glowed a faint blue, which then quickly disappeared. He closed his hand over it and looked toward the windows nearby. Maybe, he had stayed here for too long, and maybe, they were closing in right now. Would they let him sleep for one more night before storming the door down and taking him away to God knows where? His grip tightened over the gray orb, and then he turned off the lights.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

"Good afternoon. This is Marc calling from Forrester Nursing Care. I am calling about the outstanding bill for your mother… Yes, I understand that she recently left our facility and is now with Hospice care. However, our services still have not yet been paid, and the bill is months overdue… Okay. Great. You'll send the check, and when can we expect that? Next week? Great. Thank you," and Marc hung up the phone.

"They're only nice to you on the phone when they're lying. Watch. We'll be calling that person again." Bob adjusted his belt buckle which failed to hold back the bulge underneath his white dress shirt. He then leaned down a bit and wiped some crumbs, probably from his lunch off his black pants and onto the floor of Marc's office. "So, you're coming tonight? To Jillians?"

"I don't know."

"Marc, we've been over this. The staff doesn't think that you like them. You don't talk to any of us, and Tina said that you stare at her."

"I don't stare at her," Marc said as he looked down at his hands.

"Well, you should come tonight. We'll all be there."

When Bob talked about the staff, he was really talking about himself, Tina and Greg, who resembled an ostrich, and Greg did not like him. And he didn't hide it, and then there was Jones, who Marc did like. He wasn't sure as to how Jones broke his leg, but by the time he returns, Marc wouldn't be there. He decided last night that he had stayed for too long. Maybe, he would go out with them, and then next week or the week after, he would leave. He felt a little guilty at doing that, but as his mother always said, be careful when you get comfortable. And he got comfortable.

"So, are you coming or not," his boss asked, growing impatient. "It's almost four."

"Yeah. What time are we going there?"

"Five. You can hang around the office for an hour, if you want. I'm going to, and I think Tina and Greg are doing that too."

"Okay. I'll hang around to five. Are we walking over or driving?"

"We can walk. The bar's not too far from here, and it finally stopped raining. I'll be back," and his boss walked out of his office.

The Village of Chester was an artistic, little hub in upstate New York. It was quiet, which was what drew Marc to it to begin with. Nobody asked him a million questions, and everyone gave him enough space and privacy. Barry was really the only one that wanted answers, but he didn't push for it, which was a good thing. If they knew the truth about Marc, about who and what he really was, they wouldn't want him there, and again, he felt bad at the idea of leaving. Where would he go? Northern Wisconsin? He always wanted to visit there, but he was afraid to. Would they be there, waiting for him, if he returned home? It was really his mother's home, but it felt like his home too. And yes, they would be there, and he wouldn't have a chance. He would have to find somewhere else to go, but he would worry about that later.

Five p.m. Marc didn't like Jillians. The owner was a beautiful, funny woman that ran the bar with two other men. He had no problems with them. He had a problem with the patrons for so many different people went there, people from the village and those passing through, and it was Friday night. Luckily, he grabbed a red bar stool next to the wall with the kitchen behind him, and he had a good view of the entrance. This way, he could watch whoever walked in, and if they seemed suspicious, he would make an excuse and take off.

"You waiting for someone," Tina asked him as she sat on the stool beside him.

"No."

"What are you two having," Jillian asked as she wiped the counter down in front of them with a small, white towel.

"The usual. Midori Sour," Tina replied.

"Soda," Marc said, and both women looked at him. "I don't drink."

"Okay," and Jillian walked away from them.

"Did you ever drink," Tina asked him.

"Once or twice in the past."

"You ever get drunk?"

"Once, and things didn't end well." Marc glanced up at the door and saw a man standing there, wearing a dark suit and looking back at him. A moment later, the man turned and spotted his friends at the other end of the bar. "I can't stay long," Marc said to Tina. "Where's Bob and Greg?"

"Throwing darts. They'll be there for awhile," and Jillian brought their drinks over. "So much for the office staff," and she made quotes in the air as she said that. "Spending time together," and she sipped her drink. "So, tell me, Marc. Why do you stare at me," and Marc almost choked on his soda. "You could talk to me, but you don't. You don't talk to anyone."

"I'm sorry," and Marc picked up a napkin from the counter and wiped his mouth. "I… I shouldn't stare at you. It's wrong, and I'm sorry."

"You seem so alone, Marc. You go to work. You go home. You repeat that process over and over and over again."

"You watching me?"

"You watch me," Tina responded.

"At work. I look at you at work. I don't stalk you."

"Well, I was curious. Don't you have any friends?"

"My neighbor, Barry," and Marc moved his glass around on the counter.

"Oh, the painter. I've met him."

Marc was getting nervous now. Who was Tina? Was she distracting him while they snuck around back, plotting on kidnapping him? How could he be so stupid? He shouldn't have dropped his guard. He had gotten comfortable, and they were here now. And it was game over.

"Marc, relax," and Tina placed a hand over his. "I like you, but you don't let anyone in. So, I tried to find a way in, and I asked around about you. That's it. Okay," but Marc found it hard to relax. "It's okay. Jesus. You would think that you were on the run or something," and she finished her drink. "Jilly," and she held up her glass. "You're not on the run or something, right?"

"No," Marc forced himself to say as he reached for his soda.

"Good. If you were, I would have to tell my father. He's a New York City Police Officer," and Marc almost choked on his drink again. "We really don't get along, though. I thought coming here would be good for the two of us, and I was right. As long as my father and I have some distance, we're good."

"And your mother," Marc asked as he pushed himself against the wall behind him.

"She died when I was three. Drunk driver, and I was no saint. I was a tough kid," and Tina fell quiet for a long moment. "So, what about you? What are your parents like?"

"My father was a house painter. He died in an accident before I was born."

"I'm sorry, Marc."

"And my mother died five-years-ago. Lung cancer."

"Jesus. So, you are all alone then," and she held his gaze for a moment. "Well, Marc, I hate to break it to you, but you got me now. I'm your friend," and again, she touched his hand. "Hey, Jilly, change my drink to a soda," she yelled over to Jillian, who was just about to bring over her drink. "Sorry," and she watched Jillian storm away.

"Thank you," Marc said.

"For what?"

"For being my friend."

"You're welcome. Now, finish your soda, so we can play darts."

Marc laughed and drank his soda. He glanced up at the front door, almost forgetting that he was supposed to keep an eye out. He spotted an older man wearing a gray suit and checking his watch. The man glanced up at Marc, and Marc could have sworn that he shook his head. But then the man turned and walked out of the bar, leaving Marc looking around nervously. Were they here? Were they waiting for him outside?

At the end of the night, Tina walked with him to his car. She surprised Marc by wrapping her arm around his. She even stood by his car as he started to get inside, and then she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. She whispered good-night into his ear and then walked away from him, and if he didn't feel like he had a million eyes on him, he would have sat in his car and watched Tina longer. But he had to get home. He had to hope that he was wrong and that they had not found him, but deep down, he knew that they would never stop looking for him. And the day would come, where they would try to take him away, and no one, not even Tina would be able to save him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"Scott? Scott. Wake up, Scott. It's time to wake up."

The camera moved into a dark bedroom. The blinds were pulled upward, flooding the room with sunlight. The camera paused on a beautiful day outside and then turned toward the large mound under the covers. A hand reached out and shook the body tucked tightly underneath, and a groan was heard. The camera zoomed on brown hair resting on the pillow, and again, a hand reached out to wake him.

"Come on, Scott. Wake up. It's a special birthday today, so wake up, sleepyhead."

"Mom, can we skip this please," he begged from underneath the covers.

"Come on, Scott. You're eighteen today. We should celebrate that. I let you go to that party last night."

"That was a mistake," Scott said and then groaned after that.

"Why was it a mistake, Scott? Did something happen? Scott? Scott, I'm talking to you. What happened last night?"

Scott threw the covers off of his body. He rubbed his eyes and then shook his head. He moved his bare feet onto the carpeted floor. His gray boxers brushed against the sheets, and he nervously pulled at his white undershirt. Then, he slowly looked at his mother and started to cry.

"Scott, what happened last night?"

"I screwed up. I got drunk, and… I didn't mean to," and Scott looked toward the window, trying to steady himself.

"Scott, look at me," and he did. "What did you do?"

A loud knock was heard against the apartment door. Scott quickly turned off the dvd and closed his laptop but not before checking the time. It was two p.m. Barry was four hours early, but was it Barry knocking loudly on his door? No, it was Tina holding a brown bag of food and a dvd in her hands.

"Hey, Marc. I thought you might be hungry, so I got us some bagels. And I brought over The Terminator. It's a good movie," and she waved the dvd at him. "Is this a good time?"

"Uh… Yeah. Come in," and Marc opened the door for her. "I am heading out at six, though."

"Oh. With who," and Tina walked into his apartment.

"Barry. My neighbor. We're going to a bar."

"Mind if I join," and she turned to look at Marc. "If that's okay?"

"Sure," and Marc rubbed the back of his head. "I guess. Let me get us some plates and napkins. You want orange juice?"

"Just water," and Tina placed the brown bag of food and dvd on a small coffee table near the tv. She moved over to his laptop and started to open it, but Scott hurried over and took it away from her. "I'm sorry," Tina said, backing away a little. "What's so important on your laptop?"

"Nothing," Marc replied and handed her a bottle of water. "It's just personal stuff. That's all."

"Okay," but Tina glanced at the laptop. "If you say so. You want to watch the movie?"

"Sure. Can you set it up? I'll be right back," and Marc carried the laptop into his bedroom.

It was close to four when the movie ended. Marc always liked the original Terminator. He also loved the second one. The third was not a favorite of his, and he hoped that there would be no more Terminator movies. But he was sure that there probably would be.

"I feel bad for Sarah Connor," Tina said suddenly. She looked over at Marc, who sat a short distance away from her on the couch. "Don't you?"

"Why would I feel bad for Sarah Connor?"

"Because she didn't choose to be a soldier, the mother of the boy that would save the world. She didn't want that, but it was forced upon her. It's not right, and on top of that, she lost the love of her life. They had one night together, and then he was gone. Just like that?"

"I guess you're right," and Marc thought about his mother. "They had ordinary lives until it happened."

"They," Tina asked. "What do you mean by it happened? The Terminator," and Marc laughed at that. "You lost me, Marc."

"I'm sorry," and Marc looked at her. "So, what do you want to do for two hours?"

"Ice cream?"

"Ice cream," Marc repeated.

"Yeah, let's go get some ice cream. Then, we'll come back here and hang out until six."

"Then, what," Marc asked.

"Then, we go out with Barry? Remember?"

"Right. Okay. Let's get some ice cream," and Marc moved away from the couch as Tina followed him.

Six p.m. Barry was not happy that Tina had tagged along. The deal was that it would be just him and Marc. He was hoping for some excitement tonight, maybe a little bar fight to kick off his adrenaline, but how could he do that with Tina there? He didn't want to hurt Marc or get him into trouble, but Marc had called the police on him once for making too much noise in the middle of the night. He wanted a little revenge for that. Maybe, he would still go through with it, despite Tina being there, which was why he insisted on driving to the bar.

"Where are we going," Marc asked as he realized that they were driving out of Chester. "I thought we were going to a local bar?"

"We're going to Newberry," Barry replied.

"Newberry," Tina said as she sat in the backseat. "That could be a rough place. Maybe, we should stay local."

"It's fine," Barry waved her off. "It's a little bar not too far into Newberry. Trust me," and he noticed that Marc and Tina exchanged looks. "If it gets too hairy, we can head back. I know Marc doesn't like to stay out too late either."

"No, I don't," Marc replied as he reached into his pocket. "If things get out of hand, we're out of there. Okay, Barry?"

"Okay, Marc," Barry replied with a small smile.

The Crimson Dove was a small bar off the edge of Newberry. For the most part, it wasn't too bad. There was a round of drinks, which included sodas for Marc. Barry wanted him to drink, but Tina had blocked any chance of that happening. And then there were darts and pool, which was kind of fun. Still, Barry was itching for a little trouble, and just as he started to think that there would be none, the ten o'clock news came on.

"Oh, come on," a large, Black man exclaimed as he watched the television set above the bar. "Can't they leave O.J. alone? Now, they're going to arrest him for kidnapping and armed robbery? What the hell, man?"

"They should have arrested him for murder," his friend, a smaller, white guy replied.

"Don't make me beat your ass. The police need to leave O.J. alone. It's bullshit," and he turned just as Marc moved past him, and his drink was knocked out of his hand. "Watch it, white boy."

"I'm sorry," Marc said. "I didn't see you there."

"Well, I see you," and the large, Black man towered over Marc. "Maybe, you'll be seeing me in the parking lot outside."

"I said that I was sorry," and Marc started to move away from him.

"Is that supposed to mean something coming from you," and he grabbed Marc by the arm. "I'm not afraid of you."

Marc was going to say something. Instead, he pulled his arm away and hurried over to Barry and Tina, who were sitting at a table nearby. He could hear the man shouting at him, but he tuned him out. It was definitely time to go home, but when he told Barry and Tina that, Barry disappeared into the bathroom. And he was in there for a long time.

"It's okay, Marc. He's gone," Tina said.

"Who?"

"That man at the bar. He's not there, or his friend."

Marc looked over his shoulder and saw that Tina was right. Still, he would feel a lot better once he was in the car, heading away from here. Where the hell was Barry? Why was he taking so long, but then Barry finally reappeared. And he smiled at Marc, but Marc did not return his smile.

"Marc, it's fine. Let's go," and Barry turned around and headed outside. A moment later, he saw that his car had a flat tire. "Shit! I think there was a phone back at the bar. Wait here, and I'll call a tow. I'm glad it's not too late. We should be able to get a tow," and Barry hurried back to the bar.

"Shit," Marc cursed under his breath as he looked around the dark alleyway. This was a bad spot, and he knew it. "Maybe, we should go inside."

"It'll be okay, Marc," but then Tina screamed.

Marc was suddenly punched in the face. He crumbled to the ground and was kicked in the stomach. He managed to look up to see the smaller, white guy holding Tina in his arms, and then a large foot made contact with his face. Marc spat out blood as he heard cruel laughter from above him.

"I told you that I'll be seeing you." Hot breath flooded over his skin. "And your girl will be watching me kick the shit out of you, and then she and I might have some alone time." And again, Tina screamed.

Marc reached into his pocket. His hand folded over the gray orb. He closed his eyes as another kick landed in his ribs. His mind went blank, and he heard Tina scream. He opened his eyes, and the large, Black man was thrown backward into the brick wall. And his friend took off running.

"Marc." Tina ran toward him. "Marc, you okay?"

"Not really," he replied as Tina helped him sit up.

"Marc," and he looked at her. "How did you do that? I saw a blue glow, and then that man went flying right through the wall. How's that possible?"

Marc turned to see Barry standing nearby. He could tell by the gaping mouth and wide-eye expression that Barry had witnessed the event too. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Now, he would have to leave because the questions would start coming, and he couldn't answer them. And as it was, they would know that he was here.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The Crimson Dove's bathroom was small, one stall, which Marc was grateful for. He quickly locked the badly scratched, warped door, ignoring Barry's shouts from the other side. He grabbed the sink and steadied himself, but he could hear the hum of the gray orb. He could feel its vibrations running down his leg and the blood running down his face. He slammed his hand against the porcelain sink, wincing in pain and silently screaming inside his head. What did he do? He defended himself. He was protecting Tina. He wasn't the bad guy here, and he looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn't the bad guy here.

"What," he screamed, more at the gray orb than at Barry, who pounded on the door. "Stop it! Stop it," and he held the gray orb in his hand. "Leave me alone," he whispered as he raised the orb up to his face.

Suddenly, blue light zapped into his forehead. Marc slumped to the ground. His body softly shook. Images filled his mind. He saw a giant sphere with a circular ring. It looked like small, blue stones surrounded it. A place flashed into his mind, and he knew somehow that this place was Winslow, Arizona. A face leaned toward him, but it was blurred, colored by white and blue light. Then, a click from a gun, and the bullet hit home.

"Marc!" Barry stormed into the bathroom and leaned over him. "Marc, can you hear me? We need help in here," he screamed over his shoulder.

"I'm okay," Marc gasped as he grabbed the gray orb and pocketed it.

"What is that," Barry asked

"We're even," Marc said as Barry helped him stand up. "Take me home."

"Marc, the police are on their way. We can wait for them, and they can call an ambulance."

"I said take me home, Barry! Oh, wait. You can't because you have a flat," and Marc stormed past him.

"Where are you going, Marc," Barry yelled after him.

"I'm getting a fucking cab. Coming," and he looked over at Tina, who was crying softly near the bathroom. "You okay," and she nodded. But he could see that she was shaking. "Let's go," and he grabbed her by the hand and led her outside.

"But Barry…"

"Fuck him." Marc promised his mother that he would never swear, but he was furious. This was Barry's fault. He wanted something to happen tonight, and it did. And now he would have to make a run for it. Thanks, Barry. "I see a cab," and Marc let go of Tina's hand and raced toward the cab.

"Marc, this is insane. Tell the police what happened," but she climbed into the cab as she said that.

"You can stay and tell them," and he held her gaze. He nodded and turned toward the cab driver. "Let's go," and the cab took off. And Barry stood out in the middle of the street, watching them leave.

Once back at his apartment, Marc walked Tina over to her car. He felt like he was being watched. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a neighbor bringing out their garbage. A dog barked in the distance. The hair on the back of his neck and arms rose upward. He had to get Tina out of here, and when she went to kiss him good-night, he stepped back. He felt bad doing this, but he had to go. And she couldn't go with him.

"Good-night, Marc," Tina said as she climbed into her car.

"Good-bye," and she looked at him when he said that. He raised his hand, and she started the ignition. He stepped back, and she slowly drove away. "Good-bye, Tina," he said.

Marc turned toward his apartment building. A knot tightened in his stomach. He wasn't alone, and somehow he knew that if he walked in there, he wasn't walking out. But he still had time, and he ran to his car. The dvds… They were the only valuable thing in his apartment, and he froze as he now sat behind the wheel of his car. He couldn't risk it. He had to leave. He had to leave the dvds, but they were the only things that he had of his mother. But she wouldn't want him to risk it, so he revved up the engine. And he drove away.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

A heart monitor was heard in the distance, following by the harsh breaths of a ventilator. A needle drew blood. Fingers checked for a pulse. The face looked rested, and the eyes moved back and forth as if caught in a dream. A white cover was pulled up to the chin, and a woman broke down into tears as she sat beside the bed. "What happened," drowned out the machines, but the silence wouldn't answer. And the room pulled back, revealing three bodies in hospital beds, chased by that woman's crying.

"Marc?" Tina pushed open the office door. "Marc, why are you sleeping on the floor?"

"I've slept in worse," Marc replied as he sat up. He rubbed his eyes, trying to erase that horrible memory from his mind, but he remembered the hospital. He remembered his friends lying in their beds, comatose. "What happened," was thrown at him like a rock against the window, and his mother said that it was a bad idea for him to be there. But he had to say good-bye, and that poor woman looked at him, blaming him. And she was right to blame him, and she would tell the cops later that he was responsible. And he was, and luckily, his friends would awake a few weeks later without any memory of what happened, which was good for him and his mother. But it was too late like now. It was just too late.

"Marc, why are you here at work? It's Sunday," Tina said as she remained standing in the doorway. "Is it because your apartment was robbed?"

"What?"

"I was worried about you, and I stopped at your apartment. And the police were there. The place was a mess, even though you didn't have much stuff. I think the robbers took your laptop. I didn't see it, and I spoke to the police. I spoke to my father," and Marc remembered that her father was a cop. "You need to talk to the police, Marc. I don't know what's going on with you, but you need to talk to them."

"Scott," he said.

"What? Who's Scott?"

"That's my name. It's Scott."

"Marc… Scott, I don't understand. Why are you hiding out at work?"

"Tina, go home. Just go home."

"Not until you tell me what is going on, Marc. Scott. Whoever the hell you are," and she crossed her arms over her chest. "What is going on?"

Tires screeched outside. Marc hurried over to the window to see two black vans park in front of the building. The side doors flew open, revealing men in black, holding what looked like guns. They moved quickly toward the building, and Marc hurried away from the window. He threw open the bottom desk drawer, reaching all the way into the back and pulling out a large wad of cash.

"Marc, who are they," Tina asked as she looked out the window.

"No one good," Marc replied as he pocketed the cash. "They won't hurt you."

"But they will hurt you," and she held his gaze. "They'll be inside this building in minutes."

"Seconds. I'm sorry, Tina, but I have to go." He hurried through the office when he realized that Tina was right behind him. "Go home."

"You're not my father, and I know how to get out of here. I know a back way. Do you?"

"No."

"So, what was your plan? Throwing them through a wall?"

"I don't know."

"Then, shut up, Marc, and follow me. Hurry up," and she moved toward the copier room. Once inside, she locked the door behind them and moved over to the window. She struggled to open it as Marc turned to look at the door. "Can you help me with this," and Marc helped her open the window. "We're right over a dumpster. If we jump down, we can maybe land in it."

"Take my hand," Marc said as he held his hand out toward her.

"Why?"

"Just do it, Tina. Trust me."

"I don't trust you," but she still took his hand.

Marc's other hand folded over the grab orb. He could feel it vibrate, and for a moment, he felt faint. He heard Tina say something, but he focused on the ground below them. He drew in a breath as he pulled Tina closer to him, and they jumped. As they flew down to the ground, a soft blue surrounded them, and they landed next to the dumpster.

"We made it," Tina exclaimed.

Marc fell to the ground. The world spun around him. He heard Tina say something, but his mind was filled with those same images. A giant sphere with a circular ring. A place, Winslow, Arizona. A face that seemed familiar. A gun. Bang.

"Marc, where's your car," Tina yelled into his ear, and Marc realized that she was carrying him, dragging his feet along the ground. "Where did you park your car?"

"I ditched it," Marc gasped, coming back to reality. "Where are they?"

"He's out of the building," he heard someone shout above him. "Outside now!"

"Come on. I'm not too far away. You okay?"

"I'm fine. We have to move," and Marc's feet touched the ground. "Come on," and he moved fast with Tina toward her car. "Hurry. They're coming. They're right behind us, Tina."

"Shut up, and get in the car." Tina flew into the driver's seat, revved up the engine, and slammed on the gas. Gunfire erupted against the back, tearing through the trunk, and Tina ducked, cursing under her breath. But that didn't stop her from flying down the road. "What happened back there," she asked him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Just let me out when the coast is clear," Marc responded as he continued to duck down in the front passenger seat.

"I'm not going anywhere," and she held his gaze. "So, Scott, where are we going?"

"Winslow. Winslow, Arizona," and Marc passed out.

"Sir, we lost him," a man in black said as he watched Tina's car disappear around the bend.

"I told you not to fire unless you had to. I would rather him alive," a voice snapped in his ear piece.

"Sir, he's dangerous. Shouldn't we follow?"

"Did you put the tracker on the girl's car?"

"Yes, sir, but we had no idea of knowing if she was going with him or not."

"She likes him, so it was a safe bet. Get out of there, and start a long range follow. When they stop, we'll try again, and then Scott and I will have a nice, long talk."

"And our competition, sir?"

"They're right behind us. Now, go."

"Yes, sir. You heard the boss. Move out," and the man in black walked back toward the vans.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Scott awoke in a soft bed with a pink cover. He opened his eyes and found a small, brown teddy bear left by his pillow. He glanced around the room and noticed the pink walls, and then he realized that his shoes and pants were missing. He turned to look on the furry pink floor, but he didn't see them. He found his pants draped over a white desk chair with his shoes underneath them. He moved away from the open window as a cool breeze drifted through the room, and he quickly got dressed. But for a moment, he felt faint, sick.

The smell of bacon rose upstairs, and Scott's mouth watered. He was starving. When was the last time that he ate, and where was he? He walked down a white, spiral staircase as voices floated up toward him. They were women's voices, and one of them he recognized. Tina. She was still with him, even when he had asked her to leave. Was this her place, and who was she talking to?

"If he doesn't wake up soon, we're going to have to take him to a hospital," one woman said.

"We can't. They'll find him," Tina replied.

"You don't even know him. You don't even know what he did."

"He's a good guy."

"Yeah, you remember your last boyfriend? You said the same thing about him, and look how that turned out?" The older woman cleared her throat. "You're up," and she glanced over at Tina. "Want some bacon?" She brushed her long, black curls over her shoulder. "I'll get you some eggs too."

"Thank you," and Scott sat down at the kitchen table near Tina. "Morning."

"Morning," Tina replied. "Marc. Scott."

"Yeah. What is your name," the other woman asked. "Your license is fake. Someone did a good job of it, but I know fake licenses when I see them."

"It's Scott," he answered. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Tina's aunt."

"Aunt," and Scott looked over at Tina. "Are we still in Chester?"

"No. We're almost two hours away from Chester. You've been out a long time, Scott. I had to ditch the car especially because it was shot up pretty good," and she looked over at her aunt when she said that. "I had to drag you around after that until we got here."

"Sorry," Scott said. "I didn't want you involved with this."

"What is this," Tina's aunt asked. "I'm Beth, by the way."

"How about we eat, and then we discuss whatever is going on?" Tina looked from her aunt to Scott. "Okay?"

"Okay. Breakfast is done," and Beth carried over two plates to the kitchen table. She placed them down in front of Scott and Tina. Then, she grabbed her plate from the counter and brought it over to the table. "Just one thing, Scott," and he paused eating. "Was everything that you told her a lie?"

"No," Scott replied.

"Good," and Beth looked over at Tina. "That's good. Okay. Let's eat."

After breakfast, Scott helped Tina and her aunt clear the table. He even offered to do the dishes, but they told him that it was okay. Beth washed the dishes, and Tina dried them. There was no conversation during this time, but it gave Scott the chance to watch Tina. She had helped him. She had saved him. She deserved the truth, but how would she or her aunt react to what he was about to tell them? Best case scenario would be that they let him go. Worst case scenario would be that they would turn him in, probably to the people chasing him. And where were those people that were chasing him? Who were they, and what would he do when they found him? He was sure that they were nearby. They just hadn't caught up to him yet.

"You're an alien," Beth exclaimed.

They had moved into the family room. The windows were open, and a cool breeze drifted inside. The sound of children's laughter filled the silence for a moment, and then Scott told the story of his parents, his real father. Then, he spoke about his life afterward, leaving some things out like his three friends that were comatose because of him. He was afraid that if he had said everything, they would turn him in. And he didn't want that. He just wanted to leave, but he wasn't sure to where. He felt like something was calling to him, and again, he felt sick.

"You okay," Tina finally said as she sat on the couch next to her aunt. They sat across from him, and she watched him nod. But she knew that was a lie. "You're not. Are you?"

"I don't know," Scott admitted. "I was okay until the bar. I don't know what changed," and he reached into his pocket, making sure that the gray orb was still there. "Something changed," he said.

"You're an alien," Beth repeated.

"I'm part human," Scott said. "Tina, thank you for everything. I mean that, but I need to go."

"To Winslow, Arizona," Tina said, and Scott looked surprised. "That was the last thing that you said before you passed out."

"I don't know. I don't remember saying that," but it felt right. He had to go there, but why? What was waiting for him in Winslow, Arizona?

"I'll take you there."

"Tina," her aunt exclaimed. "Maybe, you should just let him go."

"Look at him," and Tina pointed at Scott. "He won't make it especially not with those people chasing him."

"Tina, maybe I should call your father."

"No. You said that you wouldn't bring him into this."

"Tina, this is dangerous. I'm sorry, Scott, but this is dangerous. You don't know what you are getting involved with. Let him go."

"You don't tell me what to do," and Tina moved away from the couch. "He needs help. He doesn't have anyone else."

"And it has to be you?"

"When we get close to Winslow, Arizona, you can go home, Tina," Scott finally said. "Just get me close enough to there."

"I said that I would take you there."

"Tina…"

"No. We have to go. Now. Can I borrow your car? Please," and Tina looked at her aunt. "Please."

"I hope you know what you are doing," and her aunt stood up from the couch. "Let me get the keys."

"Still have your money," Tina asked Scott.

"Yeah," and he reached into his other pocket, feeling the cash there. "Why?"

"We're going to need it, and you better go to the bathroom before we leave."

"Okay," and Scott stood up and started to move away.

"Scott?"

"Yes."

"I can trust you. Right?"

"I thought you didn't."

"Well, I know I earned your trust, but I need to trust you. No lies. You have to tell me the truth. Okay?"

"Okay," and Scott walked out of the room.

"Tina, this is a bad idea," her aunt said as she handed her the car keys and another wad of money.

"What's this?"

"In case you change your mind. Leave the car with him, and come back here."

"I…"

"Just think about it," and her aunt hugged her. "You always have a home here."

"Thank you," and Tina hugged her back.

Beth watched Tina and Scott leave. She gave a short wave as the car moved away from the driveway. She checked her watch and then closed the door. Her hand rested against the door for a long moment, and then she moved back into the kitchen. She slowly picked up the phone and dialed a number. Her call was answered by an operator, and she cleared her throat. "Yes. I need to speak to Police Officer Henders. Yes, I'll hold," and as she did, two black vans parked outside.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

She looked like an angel. The white covers were tucked under both arms. Her head was resting gently on top of the pillow. Her eyes were closed, and he prayed for a good dream. But then he touched her hand. It was ice cold, and when he looked at her face, he knew that she was gone. And a scream rose up into his throat, and he released it. And as he did, the lights went out.

"Marc? Scott? Scott," and she shook him by the shoulder. "I'm hungry. We got to eat and then actually get some sleep. I've been driving for hours. Scott, are you with me," and again, she shook him by the shoulder.

"Yeah," Scott replied as he turned toward the passenger-side window. He bit his lip, trying to force the tears away from his eyes. The memory was painful. It cut him in two, and he could feel a sob rise up into his throat. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look out at the dark road. "Where are we," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"We're still on Interstate 40 West. You okay?"

"I'm fine, Tina."

"Don't lie to me, Marc. Scott. You promised."

"I'm sorry," and he looked at her, forcing a smile. "I'm hungry too."

"Good. We're here," and Tina drove toward a rest stop. "I'll get this time. You get next."

"Sounds good," but then a wave of nauseous flooded over him. His skin felt cold. His eyes fluttered up. Then, it passed, and he realized that Tina was watching him. "I'm okay," but she shot him a look. "It's fine," but she held the annoyed look in place. "Can we please go inside? Please?"

"As long as you don't pass out on me. Again," and Tina stormed out of the car.

"I'll try not to," but his legs shook as he walked with Tina into the rest stop. What was wrong with him? Why was he feeling like this? He was never sick. In his entire life, he was never sick. This started with the bar when he threw that man through the wall. Something happened to him, but what? What was making him go to Winslow, Arizona?

"You coming," Tina shouted over to him, and he realized that he had stopped walking. "Come on," and Tina disappeared inside.

"Scott."

The voice made him jump. He spun around, but nobody was there. It didn't sound like someone had said it. It sounded like a thought, a voice inside his head, and that bothered him. And he hurried into the rest stop.

"Two burgers, two fries and two sodas," Tina ordered for them as they sat in a booth near the entrance doors.

"You got it," the waitress standing nearby said as she wrote down the order. She was a bit heavyset with curly, brown hair. "Would you two be interested in some Dutch Apple Pie? Made it myself," and she watched both Tina and Scott nod. "I'll bring two pieces out with your order," and she walked away.

"I have to use the rest room," and Tina slid out of the booth. "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah," and again, he forced a smile at her.

"Stop lying to me please," and his smile disappeared. "I'll be right back," and she walked away, heading toward the back of the diner.

Scott tried to relax. He looked out the window. It was dark outside, and there were about seven cars in the parking lot. They looked normal, and a family exited the rest stop, getting into one of those cars. Again, he tried to relax, but he didn't feel right. He was cold, and he was never cold. And that made him think of when he touched his mother's hand.

The bell above the entrance doors rang, and Scott looked up. He felt faint, grabbing the table for support. He eyed the older man wearing a gray suit, and the man checked his watch. Then, the man turned toward Scott and walked toward him. He smiled, and he seemed like a friendly guy. But Scott had a bad feeling, and his heart dropped as the man slid into the seat opposite him.

"Scott. You don't look so well," the older man said. He was probably in his late fifties, early sixties, and the light gleamed off his partially bald head. "You okay? I'm worried about you."

Just then, the waitress brought over the food. She looked at Scott in confusion, and then she looked around the rest stop. Scott realized that she was looking for Tina, and he slowly pointed over to the bathroom sign. The waitress nodded and moved away, but she gave one last, long look over at the stranger sitting in the booth.

"Mind if I have a sip," and the man grabbed Scott's soda. He held it in his hands. "Where's your friend? Bathroom?"

Scott looked around. Panic rose up into his throat. Then, he noticed that Tina was on a pay phone near the bathroom. Who was she calling? Did she turn him in? Was this a set up? Why did he have to lie to her? What was he going to do, but then the man touched his hand. And he felt a small prick.

"We got a few minutes. I'm Mark Shermin, by the way. I've been watching you a very long time," and he drank Scott's soda.

"What…" Scott slumped back into his seat. He pushed his food away. Numbness started to creep up his arms and legs. Tears filled his eyes. "What's going on," he whispered.

"I'm just taking care of you, and don't worry about Tina. She's probably checking in with her aunt, and don't worry. We didn't hurt her, and she'll come with us. I think you'll need her, but right now, I need you to do me a favor."

"What," Scott gasped as he clung to consciousness. "What did you do to me?"

"Go to sleep, Scott. It's okay. I'm a friend. I got you," and he watched Scott pass out. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded to a man standing nearby, and that man walked toward Tina. He took another long sip of the soda, and then he decided to try the Dutch Apple Pie.

"He okay," the waitress said as she hurried over.

"Yeah. He's just tired from the drive. You make this," and he took another bite of the pie.

"Yeah," the waitress responded, glancing from him to Scott. "Why?"

"It's terrific," Mark Shermin replied.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

"Scott. Scott. Scott."

The voice was back inside his head. Images chased after it. A giant sphere with a circular ring. A place, Winslow, Arizona. A face that seemed familiar. A gun from a sniper that was trained on him. A cool breeze. Blood on his fingertips, and Scott fell. He fell down into a dark, monstrous hole, and he reached upward, trying to grab hold of something. But nothing would break his fall.

Scott's eyes opened. He was lying in a small bed. He tried to sit up, but both his wrists and ankles were restrained. He noticed the IV in his arm, and his gaze moved up to the clear bag above him. Then, he realized that he wasn't alone, and he turned to see Mark Shermin nearby, holding a syringe in his hands.

"No," Scott cried as Mark leaned over and stuck the syringe into the IV. "No," Scott cried again.

"Shhhhh. You were having a bad dream. There. All done," and Mark Shermin tossed the syringe into a garbage nearby. "It's okay, Scott. You're in my lab, and the restraints are just a precaution. This way, you don't throw me through a wall," and he laughed. But Scott did not laugh. "The drugs are just to relax you. I don't want you losing control. You've got a bad track record for that."

"I…" Scott began to feel faint. "I mean you no harm." He struggled to stay awake. "I just want to be left alone," he whispered.

"I know, Scott. I've protected you for a very long time now, but then I lost you when you caused that major blackout after your mother died." Mark Shermin sat on the bed beside him. He watched Scott close his eyes. "The guy that made your license showed up on our radar, and I was able to find you again. But I don't know, Scott. The black out. What you did to your friends. The guy through the wall. My old employers are looking to put you down. We're running tests on you right now, and then… I don't know, but you need to rest. You don't look so well," and he laid a hand on Scott's shoulder. "I told you the truth, Scott. I'm a friend, and I'm here to help."

"Winslow. Winslow," Scott whispered.

"Why, Scott? Why are you going there?"

Scott started to fall again. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. He could just feel the man's hand on his shoulder like a heavy rock pushing him under. He tried to move his body, but his body refused to respond. And then the voice returned, drowning out whatever Mark Shermin was saying. And Scott fell into a cold darkness, one he feared that he would never awake from again.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Mark Shermin's office was bright. The walls were wooden, and so was the floor. Sports memorabilia decorated the entire space. Most of it was basketball, but some baseball was thrown in there too. And Mark sat back in a large, black office chair with his feet propped up on a small, wooden desk. He twirled his watch, a silver Rolex around and around on his wrist, and a cigar wrapped in plastic rested on his lap.

A knock on the open office door broke him from his thoughts. He looked up to see a man standing there. It was the same man that had opened fire on Tina's car and the same man that had dragged Tina out of the rest stop. His name was Thomas, and Mark had known him for almost ten years now. The man was military. Well, he was, but the private sector had seduced him to its dark side. As far as the world knew, they didn't exist, but the government did. And they weren't happy with them, and to a degree, Thomas still felt some loyalty to them. Mark didn't.

"You going to smoke that," Thomas asked, gesturing toward the cigar on Mark's lap.

"I haven't smoked a cigar in about thirty years," and Mark tossed the cigar onto his desk. "I might smoke this one, if I were to see something like I did back then."

"You're talking about the alien," and Thomas sat in a small, black chair near Mark's desk. "Are you sure about him?"

"He's a kid," Mark responded.

"He's dangerous."

"Yeah. You said that before."

"And I'll keep saying it. He is dangerous, and he's not in control of himself."

"I know. That's why I agreed to keep him sedated. Is the safe house set up yet?"

"Yeah, but why don't we just hand him over, Mark? Let the government have him. You've protected him long enough, but it's time. It's time, Mark."

"They'll kill him."

"I know," and he held Mark's gaze. "It might be better for all of us, if that happened."

"You ever read Ray Bradbury," and he watched Thomas shake his head. "Well, Ray Bradbury had written this short story called, Zero Hour, and in this story, these kids are playing with what they thought was an imaginary friend. What they were really doing was helping aliens invade our world, and in the end, the aliens won. And you have to wonder. Did those kids really mean to help the aliens, or did they just think that it was a game? Even when this kid led the aliens right to their parents, who were hiding upstairs in their house, did this kid realize what was about to happen? Or were they just pawns? Is Scott just a pawn, caught up in some vicious game, or is he a threat, one that could destroy our world?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Mark, especially if he is going to Winslow, Arizona to meet them. I mean why now? Why after thirty years are they coming back here? Maybe, to invade? Maybe, he's the key to their invasion? I say that we put a bullet in his head before that happens," Thomas said.

Mark was about to respond when a woman appeared at his door wearing a white lab coat and holding a manila folder in her hands. She looked from him to Thomas, noting the seriousness of their conversation. She looked down at the manila folder, and then she looked up at Mark. The look on her face held importance, and she inched into the room as Thomas looked over at her.

"That his lab work," Mark asked, and the woman nodded in response. "How bad is it?"

"See for yourself," and she hurried over to Mark, placing the folder in his hands. Then, she exited the room.

Mark stood up and opened the manila folder. He looked down at the lab work and fell into his chair. He gingerly played with his watch for a moment. Then, he looked over at Thomas, who remained sitting rigid, waiting for a response. "Don't worry about the invasion," Mark finally said. "They're not coming to take our world. They're coming for him," and he tossed the folder over to Thomas. "You got your wish," and he hurried out of the room.

Thomas opened the folder and looked inside. "Shit," he muttered. "I should have just killed him."

Mark's office was across from where they were keeping Scott. He paused by another closed room, listening to the banging on the other side. Tina was definitely a fireball, one that would not be silenced unless of course, he gave her the same drugs that he was giving to Scott, but Tina wasn't a threat. If she calmed down, he could speak reasonably to her, but she was still banging away on that door. And she was screaming to be let out.

"Sir," a guard stationed outside Scott's room asked him. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah. Let me in, and don't worry about closing the door behind me."

"Sir," the guard said again.

"Go get the girl, please, and bring her in here."

"Yes, sir," and the guard moved past him.

"Sir," Mark snorted as he walked inside. "Oh, Scott," he muttered as he stared at the unconscious man still strapped to his bed. "I'm sorry," and he walked over to him. "I really am," and he undid the restraints wrapped around Scott's wrists and ankles.

Suddenly, Scott grabbed him by the arm. His fingers slid down, brushing against his watch. Then, Mark watched Scott's hand fall back onto the bed. He was still too weak, and now he knew why. And Mark sat beside him, taking Scott's hand into his, and giving him a soft squeeze. He was about to say something when Tina flew into the room and raced toward him, but the guard grabbed her by the arms.

"Let her go," Mark said as he moved away from the bed, and he watched Tina hurry over to Scott.

"What did you do to him," she screamed at Mark. "What did you do?"

"We drugged him, of course."

Tina moved toward him, but now Scott grabbed her by the arm. He tried to shake his head, but he was still too weak. Most of his body felt numb. He tried to sit up, and Tina helped him. But then he fell against her like a helpless doll.

"Monsters. You're a monster," Tina screamed at Mark.

"Will you please stop screaming at me?"

"No," Tina said.

"We're letting him go. We're letting you go."

"Sir," the guard behind him asked.

"Get out," Mark snapped at him, and the guard hurried out of the room. Then, Mark noticed Thomas standing by the door with the folder in his hands. "Thomas?"

"You want to tell him, or should I?"

"Tell him what," Tina asked. "What's going on?"

"We ran tests on Scott," Mark said.

"Of course, you did," Tina snapped at him.

"What were the results," Scott asked, and everyone looked at him. "What's wrong with me?"

Mark drew in a deep breath. He looked over at Thomas, who slowly nodded back at him. Mark then nodded, knowing that he had to be the one to tell Scott, and he looked over at Tina, whose eyes filled with tears. She already knew, and she looked at Scott, who was still in her arms. "I'm sorry, Scott," Mark finally said. "You're dying."

"What," Scott said. "I was fine until the bar. How could I be dying?"

"They ran your blood work twice, Scott. You can see the results for yourself," but Mark watched Scott shake his head. "Do you know why you have to go to Winslow, Arizona?"

"No," Scott cried. "No."

"Because you're going home," and Scott and Tina looked up at Mark. "They're coming to take you home, Scott, and I'm going to help you get there."

"How long does he have," Tina asked, trying to keep the tears from falling but failing miserably.

"Two, maybe three days. I'm sorry."

The same woman from before walked into the room, holding a syringe. She looked over at Thomas and Mark. Her gaze rested for a moment on Tina, and then she focused on Scott. She stepped toward him, but Tina pulled Scott closer to her. And the woman turned toward Mark.

"It's a booster. Some vitamins and minerals to help Scott. It's a long drive, and he's got to make it. Tina, look at him. If he doesn't get this shot, he won't make it," and Tina looked at Scott, knowing that Mark was right. "He's too weak. He's vulnerable, and he's still being hunted."

"Hunted," Scott asked.

"The military wants you dead, Scott, and if you're in this state, you're an easy target. Let her give you the shot. Then, we can leave."

"Why don't you want him dead," Tina asked Mark.

"If I wanted him dead, I would never have helped his mother escape, especially when I found out that she was pregnant with him, and trust me when I say that what I did cost me everything. It was just chance that saved me later, and that chance is now giving me an opportunity to save him."

"Give me the shot," Scott said. "He's calling me. I can hear him."

"Who, Scott? Who's calling you?"

"My father," Scott said as he looked at Mark, and then he flinched as the woman stuck him with the needle.

Mark's mouth fell open. He glanced down at the silver Rolex on his wrist. The watch had been dead for years. Nobody was ever able to fix it, but as he stared down at it, the hands started to move. He then remembered that Scott had touched his watch. He looked at Scott, but Scott had passed out again. If they didn't leave now, that poor kid would never make it to Winslow, Arizona, and Mark Shermin would be damned to let that happen.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Darkness. Cold, blinding darkness. It was as if an abyss had swallowed him, but as he fell silently, giving in, something, someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him upward. The darkness refused to give way, but slowly a bluish light broke it. And for a brief moment, his father appeared, trying to save him.

Scott opened his eyes. He was sitting in the back of a black van, and Tina rode beside him. He tried to move his body, but his body groaned in response, refusing to move. His head slumped back, allowing him to stare forward at the two men in front. The guy driving reminded him of a soldier, and then Scott remembered that the man had tried to kill him. But he was too weak to do anything about that, and then he looked over at the other man riding shotgun. And he remembered what this man had told him, but he still found it hard to trust him. Was he really Scott's friend, or was this just some kind of sick game, where Scott would die in the end?

"You're awake," Tina whispered over to him. "How are you feeling," and Scott just looked at her. "When they pull over," and Tina drew closer. "We can make a run for it."

"Nobody's making a run to anything," Mark Shermin said over his shoulder. "Unless, of course, it's to use the bathroom and get some food." He checked his watch. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I could go for some food right about now."

"There's a rest stop two miles up ahead," Thomas replied.

"How are you guys back there?"

"We're fine," Tina snapped at Mark Shermin, but then she realized that he was holding a small, black radio in his hands.

"We're good, sir," a voice crackled over the radio.

"Hang back about a mile, and give us ten." Mark Shermin lowered the radio and looked over at Tina. "Bathroom?"

"I'm okay. Scott?"

"Yeah. I have to go."

"Okay. I'll help you," and Mark Shermin caught the look on Thomas's face. "What?"

"Nothing," Thomas replied.

"Good. Keep it that way. How are you feeling, Scott?"

"I'm fine," Scott replied.

"Yeah. If you say so," and Mark Shermin glanced over his shoulder at him. "You'll need another booster soon. We still have awhile to go."

Scott closed his eyes. He felt better in the darkness. Somewhere deeper in his mind, he could still see that bluish light. His father was waiting for him, and he had to get there, even if it meant trusting Mark Shermin and the soldier. He had to make it, and he felt the car come to a stop. The wind brushed across his face as he felt Mark Shermin reach for him, and he allowed that man to walk him over to the bathroom. Luckily, he was able to do his business without Mark Shermin helping him, but afterward, he needed to lean on that man for support because his legs still felt sluggish.

"I got you, Scott," Mark Shermin whispered into his ear. "It's okay," and he helped him back into the van. "Where's Thomas?"

"Inside getting food," Tina replied as she continued to sit inside the van.

"You could've made a run for it," Mark Shermin said, but then he followed Tina's gaze over to Scott, who slumped back against the seat. "I see. He's lucky that he has you," and Mark Shermin closed the van door.

Once back inside the van, Mark Shermin checked his watch, and then he twirled it around and around his wrist. He rubbed his chin. He glanced back over at Tina and Scott, who stared at him. He forced a smile and then looked over at the rest stop. Something wasn't right, but he didn't want to alarm the two in the back. Instead, he prepared the booster shot.

"What's wrong," Tina asked, and Mark Shermin realized that she was asking him.

"Nothing. Just getting Scott's shot ready," he said without looking at her.

"You're lying."

Mark Shermin placed the needle on his lap. He looked over at Tina and then at Scott. He shook his head and said, "You're very perceptive. You know that? You're just like your father."

"You don't know my father," Tina replied.

"Actually, we checked up on him and your aunt, and don't worry. We didn't hurt them."

"If you did, then I'm going to hurt you."

"Tina, we didn't hurt them. Trust me."

"If you want me to trust you, then tell me what is wrong."

"It's quiet," Mark Shermin replied. "It's too quiet, and that's not a good thing. The government wants Scott dead, and yet, nothing. No roadblocks. Just nothing," and he watched Thomas walk back toward the van, holding two white bags in his hands. "Just can't trust anybody these days," he muttered more to himself.

"What's the syringe for," Thomas asked as he tossed one white bag into the back toward Tina and Scott. "Another booster? We should hold off on that for now," and he handed Mark Shermin the other white bag.

"He needs it," Mark Shermin replied.

"We're not there yet," Thomas said.

"It'll help," Mark Shermin said.

"Let him sleep. We can give him the shot once we're there."

"I want to give it to him now," and Mark Shermin turned toward the back when he felt something press into his side. He realized that it was Thomas's gun. "So, let me guess. We arrive at Winslow, Arizona, and they take Scott."

"Yes," Thomas replied.

"My guys were never following us. Were they?"

"No," and Thomas watched Mark Shermin move back into his seat. "This has to happen."

"Is that your decision?"

"No, Mark. That decision was made by the man that gave you that watch, and the vice-president feels that this is the right move to make."

"I see," and Mark lunged toward Thomas, surprising him and burying the needle into his neck. And the gun went off.

Thomas ripped out the needle and was about to spin the gun around toward Tina when he fell forward. Mark struggled to push him back, and Thomas fell against the steering wheel. The horn sounded off, and again, Mark struggled to push Thomas off the steering wheel. And to his surprise, Tina helped him.

"Thank you," Mark Shermin said, and then he fell back into his seat and closed his eyes.

Tina helped Scott out of the van. She looked from the rest stop to the parked cars. Some people stared at her and then at each other. She took a step forward, but Scott moved away from her. She tried to grab him, but he pushed her away. "Scott, come on. We have to go," Tina exclaimed as she watched Scott open the front passenger-side door. "He's dead, Scott. I'm sorry," but then she watched Scott reach into his pocket and pull something out. "What are you doing?"

Scott closed his eyes. He reached into the darkness, pulling out whatever strength he could find, and the gray orb in his hand glowed blue. He touched Mark Shermin's chest, and for a moment, the world stopped. Then, he felt the man's heart beat, and he quickly pocketed the gray orb. He stepped back, but then he collapsed. And Tina hurried over to him, trying to lift him up.

"Scott," Tina cried as she pulled him up to his feet. "What the hell, Scott?"

Mark Shermin coughed. He opened his eyes and reached toward his chest. He could still feel the blood, cold and wet against his shirt, but his skin was no longer broken. He slowly sat up and turned toward Tina and Scott. "Thank you," he gasped as he once again looked down at his bloody shirt.

"For my mother," Scott barely whispered as he clung to Tina for support.

"Thank you," and Mark Shermin reached into his pocket, withdrawing another needle. "This is the booster. It was already made for you. The other one was just a sedative," and he held the needle out toward Scott. "Take it, and get out of here."

"Thank you," and Scott slowly took the needle from him.

"Get out of here, Scott. They're coming. Go!"

"Thank you," Tina said before guiding Scott away from him. "Come on, Scott. We need to find a ride."

Mark Shermin stared down at his shirt. Then, he glanced over at his watch. His gaze shifted upward toward Tina and Scott. A breeze rustled against his skin, and he rubbed his eyes. When he looked again, Tina and Scott were gone. "Good luck," he said as the sky darkened, and the wind turned cold. "Please, make it," and he looked over at Thomas, who was still unconscious. "Just can't trust anybody these days."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

"Okay, Scott. Just a little bit more. Okay. We're done. Press down here, and don't move your hand. I'll be right back. Do you have a band-aid, Mrs. Hayden?"

Scott was sitting in a small kitchen. Sunlight shined through one window, but the other part of the sky was cloudy. He continued to press down where the strange man had drawn blood, and he stared out the window, captivated by such contrast. He hardly registered the two adults that moved a short distance away from him, giving them the illusion that they were free to talk, but he was listening. And he heard every word that was being said.

"Here," and Mrs. Hayden opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a box of band-aids. "Mark, why are you here?"

"To take Scott's blood. It's part of our deal. Remember?"

"Yeah. I remember, but the deal is that you draw his blood every year right before his birthday. He turned thirteen last week, and you came here and drew his blood. So, why are you doing it again?"

"Oh. Um… Just something got screwed up in the lab. That's all."

"Mark, we've known each other for a long time now, and I know when you are lying. You tell me the truth, or you'll never find us again. You'll never see Scott again," and Mark looked over at Scott. "What's wrong with him?"

"Has he been acting differently lately?"

"No. Actually, he's been very quiet. Is he sick?"

"I don't know. His bloodwork is different."

"What do you mean by different, Mark?"

"I mean that up to now, his bloodwork has been that of a normal healthy, human boy, but something's changed with him. I can't explain it, but I think that Scott is changing. I could be wrong, but I don't know."

"So, what do I do?"

"Unfortunately, there is nothing that we can do, Mrs. Hayden. If Scott were to become something more, I don't know, and if he were to change and be able to do things, then we would have to worry about the government stepping in."

"Aren't you the government, Mark?"

"I'm not military, Mrs. Hayden, and I have all the resources that I need to protect you and your son. However, if circumstances were to change, then my boss would overstep me, and he would decide Scott's fate. Now, I don't want that to happen, which is why I will try to keep these results to myself, but there is a need to be concerned. If he keeps changing, Scott might not be human anymore."

"Then, what," Mrs. Hayden asked, trying not to cry. "Can you protect us?"

"I will do my best, but you may want to explore other options."

"Other options?"

"Yeah. Other options," Mark Shermin said, and he leaned closer to her. "Run," he whispered, and Mrs. Hayden slowly nodded. "But don't worry. We have it all under control. Scott, here's your band-aid," and Mrs. Hayden watched Mark Shermin place the band-aid on Scott's arm. "See you next year, and happy birthday. Mrs. Hayden," and Mark Shermin walked out of the house.

Scott opened his eyes. Tina was driving a car that she had stolen from the parking lot at the rest stop. Scott gave no argument but just slipped into the front passenger-seat, and that was the last thing he remembered. Then, he realized that he was holding the booster shot that Mark Shermin had gave him, and he was about to inject himself when Tina stopped him.

"No, Scott. We're about to call it a night," and she pointed at a motel nearby. "Save it for tomorrow. You're gonna need it."

"Are we here in Winslow, Arizona," Scott asked her.

"We will be by tomorrow, if everything goes alright," but Tina seemed worried. "Scott, how did you save Mark Shermin?"

"I… I just knew how. Does that bother you?"

"Yes. It does. Scott?"

"Yes, Tina?"

"Are you human?"

"I don't know," and Scott looked down at the needle that he held. "You could have left me, Tina. You didn't have to stay."

"I care about you," and Tina reached over and took his hand. "Someone needs to protect you, Scott, and I guess that someone is me."

"Thank you," and he watched Tina pull her hand away. "I won't harm you."

"I know, Scott, but we don't know what's waiting for us in Winslow, Arizona. But I guess we will find out."

"I guess we will," Scott said as he looked out the window and up at a large, full moon.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

A purplish-pink glow stretched across the sky. Shadows fell against the parking lot. Tires crunched against dirt, and headlights flashed into darkness. A ghost of a woman jogged by, taking a moment to check her pulse, but she was very much alive. And the world slowly stirred, disheveled and confused, unaware of what was coming, and all he could do was stand beside the window and watch another day begin. Today, he was going to die.

The motel room was dark. Orange light invaded from the parking lot. The sun had not reached them yet. Shadows nestled down next to Tina's body, and she was out cold. She had insisted on sharing the bed, so he slept under the covers. And she slept on top, and they both remained in their clothes except for the shoes, which had disappeared into the darkness. And as more light crept into the room, he was now captivated by the slow rise and fall of her chest, her black locks sprawled out across the bed, and dawn's gentle glow upon her brown skin. She was beautiful. She was his hero, but Tina could not save him. No one could, and if he had the strength, he would kiss her good-bye and leave her behind at the motel.

He had a normal life once. At least, he thought it was normal until the night before he turned eighteen. He was just messing around with his friends, and they were teasing him about never being drunk or stoned. He was stupid and listened to them, and his three best friends wound up in a coma because he got so high that night that he lost control. And he zapped them in their heads like with what happened to him back at the Crimson Dove, and as he remembered that, the gray orb zapping him in the forehead, he fell to his knees, bombarded once again by all those images. A giant sphere with a circular ring. Winslow, Arizona. A face that might belong to his father, colored by white and blue light. Bang, and the bullet hits home.

"Scott," Tina said as she watched him struggle to his feet. "Maybe, you should take the shot now." She sat up in bed and watched him shake his head. "You need it, Scott."

"I know, but we have to get closer first." As Scott said this, he felt uneasy about moving closer to Tina. He never really had a girlfriend. He never got the chance to go to college and pursue his teaching degree. He had to run. He had to hide. He had to not trust anybody, and it was hard for a long time. Then, his mother died, and things became even harder. Now, he was here with Tina, a young woman that he allowed himself to watch and wonder, never thinking that there would be a chance for them because he would have to run at some point. He just didn't think that she would come with him, and suddenly, she was standing right beside him, taking his hand into hers and leading him back to the bed. "I can't," Scott said, and he tried to pull his hand away from her. But she tightened her grip, locking her body next to his. "Tina…"

"Don't say it, Scott," and she ran a finger across his lips. "Okay. Just don't say it," and she brushed her lips against his.

After that night with what he did to his friends, Scott vowed to never lose control, and he didn't. He held it together right up to that moment, where he took his mother's hand and realized that she was gone, and all that fear, all that hurt was like a sonic boom, knocking the power out in not only the surrounding area but several miles away. And again, after he pulled himself back together, which took a long time, he vowed to never lose control, and he succeeded until that night at the Crimson Dove. And now Tina was pushing her body into his. Her lips brushed against his lips. Her hands moved down his chest and toward his waist, and he grabbed her up into his arms. He swore silently that he would not hurt her, but instead, he surrendered, falling onto the bed and yielding to the woman that now lied on top of him, kissing him deeply. If this were how he was going to die, he would meet death with open arms.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14:

"Is this really necessary?"

Thomas looked over at the man sitting in the front passenger-seat. His shirt was still bloody, but it was dried and dark. There were little spots of red decorating his gray dress pants. What hair he had was a mess with little grays rising upward, grays that Thomas vowed to never show, but he didn't shave his head either. The silver Rolex on the man's wrist glinted against the rising sun, and for a moment, he thought he saw the hands on the watch move, which was impossible. The watch had been dead for years, but then he thought of Scott. And that was why Mark Shermin was sitting with his wrists handcuffed together. "Yes," Thomas snapped at him, and then he touched his ear piece, listening to whoever was on the other side.

"You could at least give me an ear piece, so I can listen in."

"You're lucky that you're not tranquilized and thrown in the back, Mark."

"You're a dick, Thomas. Why don't you just shoot me? Again?"

"I didn't shoot you, Mark. I killed you, but that's what you get when you do something dumb like stab me with a needle." Thomas shook his head. "He's not your son, Mark. I'm sorry that you and your son aren't close…"

"Don't talk about my son."

"Okay. Look, I don't want to fight with you. After today, we can go our separate ways."

"After today, I'm done."

"Do you think he's going to let you retire, Mark? With all that you know and have done?"

"You're one to talk, Thomas."

"I'm not going to apologize for my past, and I have no regrets about betraying you. The decision's been made, and the problem is going to be neutralized."

"His name is Scott," Mark snapped at him. "Just let him go home."

"And the aliens are going to what? Leave like they did last time? Maybe, he'll piss them off, and they'll wipe us out."

"You're crazy."

"I'm a realist, Mark. We can't let him get near them. As soon as he is in our sights, we take him out."

"Don't you want to dissect him first?"

"No. We're past that, and he's probably dying fast anyway."

"And the girl? You going to kill her too?"

"I gave her a chance, Mark. All she had to do was run. Her staying was her mistake. Now, are you going to behave, or am I going to have to use my gun to silence you?"

"I thought you weren't going to shoot me again."

"No, but I can use it to knock you out."

"You're a dick."

"You said that already," and Thomas waved his gun at Mark. He watched Mark turn away and look out the window. "Think of it this way, Mark. You get to smoke that cigar," and Thomas dropped the cigar onto his lap. "You're welcome."

"He's not going quietly."

"He can't control his powers, Mark. Maybe, if we're lucky, he'll self-destruct," and Thomas touched his ear piece. "Showtime," and he flashed a cold grin at the man beside him. "I thought he would never get here."

"Yeah," Mark Shermin said as he looked down at the handcuffs. "Welcome to Winslow, Arizona." He slammed back into his seat as Thomas hit the gas, and the black van disappeared down the road.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15:

"Good Morning, Winslow, Arizona! It is a gorgeous, gorgeous blue skies Wednesday day. If you're stuck at work, I say get out and enjoy today. In the meantime, here is a song by the American Alternative Rock Band, VAST called, Where it Never Rains."

Scott could hardly believe that a week had gone by. A week ago, the only thing that he had to worry about was running. He was so paranoid that he was being watched, and he was. Mark Shermin had been watching him, making an appearance at Jillian's, and then later at the rest stop, where Scott was taken. It was all now a blur, and the fog in his mind did not lift until he injected himself with the booster shot. As the music flooded the car, he started to relax, but then he heard Tina gasp. A week ago, all he had was his fear and paranoia, but the real nightmare waited up ahead, five military vehicles loaded with soldiers and three military helicopters. And all guns were locked and loaded, and all they had to do was fire. But they didn't. What were they waiting for?

Tina slammed on the brakes. She looked desperately at Scott. She then glanced upward at the helicopters. "I could turn around," she said, not looking at him, and her voice shook. "What are we going to do?"

Scott was about to answer when the helicopters fired warning shots, surrounding the car. If they tried to escape, they wouldn't miss next time. They would kill Scott and Tina, and then Scott realized why they had not opened fire yet.

"They want me," Scott said to her. "I'll get out. I'll surrender. You leave."

"Fuck that."

"Tina…"

"No," and she grabbed his arm, tightly. "No," she cried.

"They're giving you a chance."

"I don't want it," Tina said. "I'm not leaving you."

"Scott Hayden, get out of the car with your hands up. We will not kill the girl," Thomas's voice boomed in the air. "If you do not come out with your hands up, then we will have no choice but to open fire, and in doing so, she will die. Do not test me," he declared before lowering the megaphone in his hand.

"Thank you," Mark Shermin said to Thomas as he stood next to him.

"Don't thank me yet." Thomas's hand tightened over his gun. In his other hand was the megaphone, and he started to raise it up to his lips when the car doors opened. "Hands up in the air," he yelled through the megaphone at both Scott and Tina as they exited the car. "What is he holding in his hand?" He raised the megaphone up to his lips again. "Scott Hayden, drop whatever you are holding. Do it now!"

Scott stood next to Tina in front of the car. "Do you trust me," he said to her.

"No," but Tina smiled when she said that. "Why?"

"Drop it now," Thomas screamed. "Or we will open fire."

"I'm sorry," Scott said.

Tina was about to answer when Scott dropped the gray orb in his hand. It fell softly to the ground, but as soon as it touched the ground, a thunderous boom was heard, followed by a blue shockwave. Everyone surrounding Scott including Tina fell to the ground. The three helicopters flew backward, losing control. Without hesitating, Scott grabbed the gray orb and then picked up Tina. He quickly moved past the motionless men, some still holding guns, and then he paused by Mark Shermin. He leaned down and touched the handcuffs, which popped open in response, and then he hurried away. He was just descending downward toward the crater when darkness crashed over him. He fell, and Tina fell with him. They continued to topple downward, and he feared that she would be killed. But his body refused to respond, and somehow, his hand became like a vice, gripping the gray orb tightly. Then, nothing but dark skies.

"Scott," Tina whispered as she snapped out of it. "Scott!" She climbed to her feet and hurried over to his unconscious body. She shook him wildly, and his eyes struggled to open. "Come on, Scott," and she realized with horror that the soldiers were waking up and reaching for their guns. The helicopters were also returning. "Scott, get on your feet. Come on. Move! On your feet, Scott! Now!"

Scott grabbed Tina, and she helped him to his feet. They started to move further into the crater when gunfire surrounded them. They ducked behind a large rock, but the helicopters were locked onto them. So were the soldiers with guns. It was over. They had lost, and Scott and Tina stood up with their hands in the air. And then everyone looked up.

A giant sphere with a circular ring was descending in the sky above them. Snow started to fall, surrounding Tina and Scott. The sun faded, and red light gently kissed the ground. Then, the red light gave way to blue light, and Scott felt a pull, a force ripping him from Tina's hold. And he tried to fight it as Tina screamed, but he was too weak. And he was disappearing into a bluish-white light when the last thing that he heard was someone saying, "Greetings."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16:

"Mommy, which star is Daddy again?"

"Come here, Scott," and she lifted him up and placed him on her lap. "My, you are getting so big."

"I'm only five," Scott laughed as his mother tickled him. "What star is Daddy?"

"His star is…" His mother took a long moment, searching the starry sky. "That one. You see it. It's right there," and she pointed at a distant star.

"I see it," and Scott also pointed at the star, which flickered against the darkness. "Do you think that Daddy will come back home?"

"I'm sorry, Scott," and his mother kissed his cheek. "He can't," and she fell quiet.

"What do I say to people when they ask about him? Can I tell them that he was an alien?"

"No, Scott."

"Why not?"

"Because people wouldn't understand. They would be afraid. The best thing would be to tell them that he was a house painter and that he died."

"Mom?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"Am I an alien?"

"You're my son, Scott, and I love you very much. And I will always love you with all of my heart," and she hugged Scott tightly in her arms.

Scott opened his eyes. He felt lighter as he sat up like he was moving through air. He was sitting on top of a gray slab, which glowed a whitish-blue. He nearly fell toward the grayish floor, but instead of crashing, he hovered. Then, he realized that his body was still on top of the slab, and tears were running down his face. "Am I dead," he cried to no one in particular.

"No," he heard a voice say from behind him. "Your human half is dying. In a few moments, it will be dead, and then we can leave."

Scott struggled to turn around. It was like swimming in molasses. A hand reached out and steadied him, bringing his feet to the floor. Then, the hand pulled back, and a face appeared, almost hidden in white and blue light. Then, a man stepped forward, and Scott realized that it was his father. He could tell from the stories that his mother always told him, and years later, he was able to find pictures of him. And the man standing before him was the same man that was seen in the newspaper article that talked about his death, but this was no man. But it was still his father.

"Greetings," his father said. "Are you feeling better?"

"How am I still alive?"

"Your human half is dying. Your alien half is much alive. When we go home, we can make you whole."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"I don't understand, Scott."

"All these years. All the running. Why now? Why choose now to come to me?"

"You called us, Scott."

"No." Scott stumbled back. "No. I have no way of doing that."

"You didn't just send that man through the wall, Scott. You sent an S.O..S. to us, and we responded." His father tapped his forehead.

"That was you? That zapping to the head? That hurt!"

"I'm sorry, but you called us. And when you sent that S.O.S., I saw everything. I'm sorry, Scott. I loved your mother very much. I love you."

"Then, why are you killing me?"

"I am not. You are killing you."

"I don't understand," and Scott looked over at his body. "None of this makes any sense."

"Scott, look at me." His father waited until Scott turned his way, and then he smiled. "You are two halves. Human. Alien. They have been divided for a long time with everything that you have gone through. When you threw that man through the wall and sent the S.O.S., you split yourself in half, making your human side weaker and your alien side stronger. Hence, killing your human side."

"I don't want to leave."

"I know, Scott, but you no longer belong here." His father now reached for him, pulling him close. "A lot of terrible things have happened to this world. A lot more terrible things will happen to this world."

"Tina…"

"You love her?"

"Yes. I can't leave her." Scott closed his eyes. He could still feel the tears running down his face, but when he touched his face, it was dry. "Can I save them?"

"It will be very difficult."

"But I could?"

"You could try, if they let you. But it's too late, Scott. We will be going home very soon."

"But the gray orb. That could heal me. Right? It's done a lot. I mean… It's done a lot of damage too."

"No, Scott. You never accessed the gray orb for its real purpose."

"What?" Scott stepped back from his father. "What about what I did to my friends? The blackout? The man through the wall?"

"That was all you."

"Then, what is the gray orb supposed to do?"

"You know."

"I don't."

"If you don't and you stay, you will die. I am giving you a chance to live."

"I can't leave her. If it wasn't for Tina, I would never have made it this far. I can't leave her, Dad," and his father flinched at that word.

"Dad? I am so happy to hear you call me that, but in many ways, Scott, I am not your father. And your mother is not your mother."

"What?"

"We are your parents, but you, Scott… You are something that I could never imagine. You are what humans call a Miracle. You are special, Scott. More than you realize, but one day, you will know."

"So, what happens now," Scott said.

"Now, you decide. You stay, or you go?"

"I want to stay. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Scott. Your mother once told me that love is when someone is a part of you, and she is a part of you. So am I," and he touched Scott's shoulder. "I am proud of you. Good-bye, Scott."

Suddenly, a sensation mirroring that of an ice pick drove through Scott's entire being. He convulsed and writhed. His head snapped back. His eyes rolled upward, and his heart slammed against his chest. His body crashed downward onto what felt like ground, and darkness caved inward. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. Then, a brilliant light filled his gaze, and he realized that it was the sun. He was lying on his back, and he rolled onto his side, slowly climbing to his feet. He gazed upward at the brilliant blue sky, and then he looked over at Tina, who stood a short distance away. He smiled and took a step toward her when a gunshot rang out, striking him in the chest, and he flew backward once more, crashing onto the ground. And as he gasped for breath, the gray orb fell from his hand.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17:

"You killed him." Mark Shermin fell to his knees. He looked down at the ground. His hands closed into fists. He looked up at Thomas, who stood over him. "I can't believe you killed him," he said.

"He should have gone with them," Thomas replied as he watched Tina hurry over to Scott and hold him in her arms. "I'll let her live."

"How generous of you," Mark Shermin snapped at him.

"I'm not the bad guy here, Mark," Thomas said, and then he walked away.

"Neither was Scott," Mark Shermin replied as he watched Tina cry and rock Scott in her arms.

Scott could feel Tina holding him tightly and crying over him. He wanted to respond, but his body was numb. His mind was fading. He was falling further and further into darkness, and part of him just wanted to let go. Then, he saw that blue light again, and he wondered why that was there. His father was gone. He made his decision to stay, but the light wasn't faint. It was strong, calling to him, and he let it call to him. The image unfolding before him reminded him of something like Howe Caverns, where he once went on a school field trip. One side was all human and earthly, but he didn't recognize the other side, which was more alien. And he slipped in-between, and he touched the blue light.

The gray orb near Scott's body started to shake. Tina raised her head up and looked over at it. The gray orb then lifted into the air, humming loudly and spinning wildly. The soldiers, Thomas and Mark Shermin were now watching it and then looking at each other in confusion. Whitish-blue light started to pour out of the sides of the gray orb, and then as if a hurricane had just blown through, Tina was hurled away from Scott's body. And the gray orb flew high up into the air and then plunged downward, straight into Scott's heart.

Once again, Scott began to convulse. He writhed on the ground as the gray orb became one with his heart. A bullet dropped to the ground. Then, he fell silent, and his head tilted to the side. A moment later, his eyes snapped open, and they flashed blue. He slowly sat up, fixing his gaze upon Thomas, who already had his gun trained on Scott, and without hesitation, Thomas fired his gun. But the bullet froze a mere inch from Scott's face, and then it dropped to the ground.

Scott stood up. He eyed the helicopters nearby and the soldiers holding their guns. He looked over at Tina and held his hand out toward her, and she slowly moved over to him. Then, he looked at Mark Shermin, whose mouth hung open, and finally, he returned is gaze over to Thomas. And Scott knew that he could kill Thomas, but then he would prove Thomas right that he was the bad guy in this story. And if there was a villain here, it was Thomas, and Scott's hand closed over Tina's, pulling her against his body.

"Do you trust me," Scott whispered into her ear.

"I love you," Tina replied.

"I love you too," and Scott wrapped his arms around her.

A blue bubble formed around them. At first, it was clear inside like a cat's eye marble with the two of them standing in the center. The bubble grew cloudy, and then it burst, sending another hurricane-strength wind across the land. The soldiers, Thomas and Mark Shermin covered their faces, and when they looked back at where Tina and Scott were, there was nothing there. They were gone.

"What the hell," Thomas exclaimed.

"I don't know," Mark Shermin replied as he took out his cigar and lit it. "I'm just glad that I'm not the one that has to report it." He blew smoke over at Thomas, and then he walked away with a giant grin on his face.


	18. Chapter 18

Final Chapter:

 _If you asked someone about 2007, you would get a lot of answers. President Bush was planning to station additional troops in Iraq. Microsoft released Windows Vista and Office 2007. Senator Barack Obama of Illinois announced his run to become the next president of the United States. Thirty-two people were killed in the Virginia Tech Massacre. O.J. Simpson was arrested for kidnapping and armed robbery. The Boston Red Sox won the World Series. Did all this happen in 2007? Yes, and these would be the answers given. But nobody would mention Winslow, Arizona or what happened there, and if they did, then they would disappear._

 _If you looked really hard, you would find something, a news story about the disappearance of Tina Henders. The story would be vague, talking about a bar fight and a freak occurrence, where a man fell through a brick wall. Then, the story would go on to say that she visited her aunt and took her car, but after that, she was never to be seen again. Some speculated that she just ran away. Others said that she took off with a man, one of her coworkers. Her father, who was a New York City Police Officer, refused to give up the search for his daughter, and then one day out of the blue, he stopped looking, never telling anyone the reason why. And just like that, she was gone, but was she really gone?_

 _It's ten years later. They're still looking for me, but they won't find me. They won't find her. My father was right when he said that a lot more terrible things will happen to this world, and I couldn't stop it. But I'm not giving up. My father was also right about something else. He was my father, but I am not my father's son. I am something else, and I am still here. And I am not going away. I am not giving up, and one day, the world will know about me._


End file.
